


Somewhere More Comfortable

by Lady_Of_Paper_7



Series: Ineffable [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, alternative ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 11:13:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16039337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Of_Paper_7/pseuds/Lady_Of_Paper_7
Summary: „And there I was, thinking it would take you another six thousand years, angel “„What?“„Really“, Crowley wasn’t quite sure, whether the angel got that he was imitating him, but oh well, „how long have we known each other now? I do the tempting and you...“





	Somewhere More Comfortable

 

> _Aziraphale held out his hand._
> 
> _“Nice knowing you,” he said. Crowley took it._
> 
> _“Here’s to the next time,” he said. “And…Aziraphale?” “Yes.” “Just remember I’ll have known that, deep down inside, you were just enough of a bastard to be worth liking.”*_
> 
> _(― Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, [Good Omens](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/4110990))*_

They turned to face forward again. Shadwell muttered something be-hind them as they started walking and they could hear his heavy foot-steps in their wake. Crowley readjusted his grip on the tire iron and Aziraphale angled his sword, so the flames didn’t come too close to the hem of his coat, flicking his wrist experimentally. Neither of them let go of the other’s hand though.

Their wings unfolded simultaneously, and Crowley just couldn’t help himself; he turned his head to watch Aziraphale’s wings unfurl around him, bright white and glorious, just like the last time he’d seen them, several centuries ago and just as tousled. His finger’s twitched against the angel‘s with the sudden need to reach out and touch them, to un-tangle the soft feathers and run his fingers through them. Heaven- _someplace_ knew they could use it.

He heard Aziraphale gasp beside him, his own fingers shaking, and he tightened his grip on the angel’s free hand. It had taken them about six thousand years to even get this far and Crowley didn’t see himself, giv-ing up the soft, warm feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach so long ago and had flared up spectacularly when their hands had touched during the last moments of their relatively peaceful existence.

With an enormous effort, Crowley tore his eyes away from Aziraphale’s wings and let them travel up his shoulders and neck until his entire field of vision was filled with the angel’s profile, messy blond curls and a useless pair of horn-rimmed glasses that perched above the two dozen odd freckles. That is, until Aziraphale turned his head to look at him.

“Crowley?”, he asked quietly, an odd look in his eyes.

Crowley didn’t answer, still too busy with burning this moment into his memory to do anything else.

„Crowley, look!“, he repeated, louder this time and only then did the demon notice that they weren’t walking anymore. It took him another second to fully understand what Aziraphale had said.

„What?“, he asked, intelligently.

„Really, my dear“, Aziraphale sounded more disgruntled than ever, but Crowley felt himself grinning at him rather stupidly.

Before he had time to come up with an answer, there was a rather loud _clang!_ and he felt Aziraphale’s soft palm cupping his cheek and turn-ing his head forwards again. He felt his smile falter for a second at that and stared blankly ahead.

He didn’t want to waste the last precious seconds they had with look-ing at Satan when Aziraphale was right there next to him and he had half a mind telling the angel that but-

“Wings!”, Aziraphale snapped out of the corner of his mouth and Crowley absentmindedly complied and folded them in as well just as an unfamiliar, well cared for car skidded to a halt in front of them.

It filled the place where the prince of darkness had been about to turn up and a tired looking, well-groomed man, Crowley half remembered from somewhere, got out, asking about his son Adam. Crowley’s mouth opened and closed several times without producing an actual sound and he felt the grip on his hand tighten while Aziraphale calmly answered the questions beside him and eventually, Mr. Young left.

“So”, Crowley finally found his voice again when the car vanished out of sight. The tire iron dropped from his hand and landed on the ground with a satisfying thud.

„So“, Aziraphale echoed, only barely managing to keep the laughter out of his voice.

He did see Crowley roll his eyes before he raised his free hand again, cupped the back of the demon’s head and pulled him close, but for once he didn’t even think of childing the demon and instead concen-trated on nothing but the feeling of Crowley’s soft lips against his and the happy sigh that escaped Crowley. Maybe it was more of a hiss than a sigh but really, with the day they’d been having, who paid attention to that?

„And there I was, thinking it would take you another six thousand years, angel “

It had been several thousands of years since that last word had been spoken with the same level of disgust most demons would use and right now it sounded softer than ever.

„What?“, this time it was Aziraphale’s turn to look confused.

„Really“, Crowley wasn’t quite sure, whether the angel got that he was imitating him, but oh well, „how long have we known each other now? _I_ do the _tempting_ and _you_ -“

„Alright, Alright“, Aziraphale sighed but he did not wait six thousand years to cut him off and when Crowley slung both arms around his neck, all thoughts slipped away from the angel.

He buried his own hands in Crowley’s surprisingly soft, dark hair and twirled the tips of the longer strands around his fingers as they kissed.

Somewhere behind them, Newton’s mouth had fallen open and he gaped at them, Shadwell wore a similar expression, his hands still clutching the enormous gun. An unfazed Anathema and beaming Mad-am Tracy exchanged a look and then took each of them by the hand and pulled them away, back towards the base.

Crowley still smelt of smoke, worse than during the decades during which he’d taken up smoking, Aziraphale noted after some time. When he slipped one hand away from the demon’s neck and down his back, he felt parts of the expensive fabric of his suit come away under his fingers and amble downwards to come to a rest around Aziraphale’s soft leather shoes and Crowley’s bare feet. The snakeskin shoes had burnt off some time ago.

The light started fading and they still didn’t let go although Crowley allowed his body to fall a little against the angel and let him bear his weight. He had been feeling dizzy ever since the Bentley had gone up in flames and he’d spent too much time breathing in the fumes and, more importantly, imagining that it was still a functionating car with tires that rolled over the streets. When they finally broke apart, his eyes still glowed orange in the twilight, but it was a slightly lighter shade than earlier.

„You ought to lie down for a while, my dear. You still look rather pale“, the angel retraced one dark circle beneath Crowley’s eyes with the tip of his finger.

He smiled at the demon when he glared, albeit weakly, and pulled him down to the still warm ground with him, arranging things so that Crow-ley’s head rested in Aziraphale’s lap, laid one hand down on his flat stomach and took up stroking back his hair with the other. The black suit had been done for hours ago, a little dirt would not hurt and the clothes the angel had found himself wearing, would not remain in his possession for much longer anyway, so that was that. Baggy jeans with rips at the knees just were not for him, the sweater in of itself was not too bad but Aziraphale wasn’t sure about the smiling whale stitched across the front. The coat was nice, light brown and reaching halfway down his thighs.

„You’re unbelievable“, Crowley muttered but his words were undercut somewhat when he shifted and curled himself around Aziraphale’s legs.

The angel was warm as the air grew chillier around them and even after that last ride he’d taken with the Bentley, old instincts took over and Crowley pushed as close to the heat source as possible, hugging jeans-clad legs to his chest. A small part of him was already half-heartedly thinking about how he’d make fun of the angel’s outfit later while the bigger part sighed in content when the hand Aziraphale had stroked his stomach with settled on his chest now, his fingers smoothing over his collarbones through his dress shirt. His eyes slipped shut and he buried further into the soft sweater, ignoring the fact that it was shaking with Aziraphale’s silent laughter.

The breeze that had been sweeping the ground all evening seemed to die down, but Crowley knew better. Without opening his eyes, he reached up with one hand and brushed his fingers against the soft feathers of the wings that had engulfed them.

“We could just leave for somewhere more comfortable, you know”, he sighed contentedly as he traced the outline of the tip of one feather with the pad of his thumb, the rest of his fingers closing around the rest of it.

“I just…”, Aziraphale did not stop playing with the dark strands, even as he bent forward to brush a kiss against the back of Crowley’s head, “I just got a feeling that we need to wait for one last thing to happen and then put an end to everything”

“Fine”, Crowley grumbled against the angel’s belly, not even bothering to open his eyes – Aziraphale would have been able to see the orange glow if he had, “but don’t expect me to stay awake while you’re waiting”

His breathing evened almost instantly, his hand finally dropping from where he’d been caressing the feathers and Aziraphale chuckled.  
„But don’t you dare sleep through this century, or I will be quite un-happy“

„With all these exciting things happening?“, Crowley’s voice was muf-fled but he didn’t pull away for even a second, „In your dreams, angel. In your dreams“

**Author's Note:**

> * https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/4110990-good-omens-the-nice-and-accurate-prophecies-of-agnes-nutter-witch?page=4
> 
> A slightly different ending to one of the greatest books of all time, I hope, you enjoyed it!


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